


The Golden General

by Glishara



Category: Chalion Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:41:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glishara/pseuds/Glishara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years ago, there was a great hero, with a great destiny...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden General

"Glory to the Father, glory to the Mother, glory to the Sister and the Brother."

Father recited the well-treaded prayer, and the family signed the Quadrene, touching forehead, navel, groin, and heart. Father took the first bite of dinner, inviting the family to begin as well. But Jaessin sat for a moment, staring at his plate. "Father?" he said after a minute.

Father's mouth was full, and he held up a hand to ask patience while he chewed and swallowed. "Yes?" he said.

"Father, I was playing with Tarri today, and her father told me that in Ibra, they have five gods, not just four. He said they worship the Bastard! Is that really true?"

Jaessin knew he had said something wrong, but not what. His older sister looked up sharply, and his mother caught her breath. Father looked very grave and serious. Jaessin bit his lip and looked down at his plate, poking at his bread. This was another of those grown-up things, he could tell. Parents got upset when he asked too much about grown-up things.

It felt like a very long time before Father said, "Yes. It is true. It is a heresy, and not appropriate for him to discuss with you. After dinner, we can talk more about this."

Jaessin obediently ate his dinner, but it felt heavy in his stomach, leaving him feeling sloshy and bloated. It was a bad feeling.

When he crept into the study after dinner, he expected to find Father angry. But instead, Father was sitting by the fire, looking thoughtful. When he looked up and saw Jaessin's face, he smiled, a warm, comfortable expression. "Come here, Jaessie," he said, and Jaessin ran over.

Father's strong arm caught him up and lifted him to sit on Father's lap. He cuddled in, not disdaining the closeness today. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong," he whispered for Father's ears alone.

"You didn't," Father said simply. "I want to know the things you are thinking. I want to help you grow into the strong man you will be one day. You know about the Bastard, yes? We've talked about what happened to the Mother."

"Yes," Jaessin agreed. "A horrible demon came and hurt her, and hurt her, and it left its seed in her to eat at her insides and take her power and make it into a baby to shame her before the Father."

Father nodded. "Some people worship the bastard of that union, for the power it will grant them, power to control demons. But in Roknar, we will never permit that. He is a demon, and no god, and he has done us great harm."

Jaessin nodded, wide-eyed, feeling the tension moving in Father's broad chest as he leaned against it. There was a little echo of Father's voice that came from inside him, like the thunder on the sea.

"Let me tell you," Father said gently, "the story of the Golden General."

#

In the time of our ancestors (Father began), Roknar was a mighty force, exploding from the sea as a tidal wave does. Our armies crashed hard against the shore and swept up the inner lands in a glorious rush. But victory wore us down, as too much victory will. Overconfident and made greedy by their plenty, our ancestors let themselves be tricked and driven back by native savages, losing the ground they once owned in the Old Kingdoms. They were pressed back to the very borders of the ocean, and they split off into the five princedoms, weakened, as fingers separate are weaker than a fist closed.

The heretics, now living in the castles we had built, stealing civilization they could now have learned on their own, nipped at our heels. They drove demons before them, stealing and killing in the night. Over several generations, we were weakened still more, but held to the true ways. They hated us and looked down on us, thinking us weaker for our virtue in worshipping the Four Gods.

It seemed we might be driven back entirely in a few more years, and we cried out to the Father. "Save us!" we begged. "We who love you above all! We who acknowledge the shame and despair of your Lady! Give us glory!"

The Father heard our prayers, and he gave us the Golden General.

The Golden General was a man unlike any other, touched by the Father. Filled with the light of his destiny, he gave hope to all who saw him. Your grandfather fought for him as a soldier in his armies, and he told me of the sights he saw. He would have died for the Golden General without thinking twice about it. Any one of his soldiers would.

Your grandfather told me a story he saw with his own eyes. He was with his company, and the Golden General prepared them for a march to the south. He spoke to the men as though they were friends preparing for a great adventure, and your grandfather's heart filled to the brim. They could not lose.

As he spoke, the Golden General rode along the line, stopping to touch the hands of men in the front line. Near the end of the line, he touched the hand of a man, and the man crumpled to the ground with a cry of despair. "I cannot do this any longer!" he shouted to the skies. "I cannot! My Lord!" and he turned his eyes, pleading and wet with tears, to the Golden General, "I have betrayed you! I am a spy for the courts of Ibra. Forgive me! Forgive me!"

The Golden General dismounted and went to one knee before the man. "The spirit of the Father is strong within you," he said to the man. "It is his light you feel, his truth filling you. You are my brother in his service. Will you fight by my side?"

And the traitor swore himself to the Golden General, there in the dirt of the camp. And he gave loyal service from that day until the day of the Golden General's death.

But the people of Chalion and Ibra were growing frightened. The demon they worshipped could not stand up to the might of the Father, and He had lent His grace to the Golden General. Under his command, the men of Roknar stood together and fought together and conquered together. Knowing they could not defeat his armies, the Chalionese and Ibrans pulled their troops back. Knowing they could produce no one who could face him individually, they tested no heroes in single combat. They sent assassins in the night, but the assassins failed. Some, like the traitor, could not carry on with their purpose once they saw the Golden General. Some were caught by the guards. Some were killed by the General himself. But all failed.

And so, the royal family of Chalion hatched an evil scheme. In the dark of the night, their king, weak and frightened, went to the tallest tower of his palace to perform the blackest of black rituals. He spilled the blood of animals and his own blood to call upon the Bastard Demon and worked a death magic upon the Golden General. He stole by magic and blood and corruption the greatest star in our constellation, and he took from us our destiny. The Bastard's demons did this for him. They thwarted the will of the Four Gods, and they killed the greatest man that Roknar has ever known.

His staff found the Golden General next day, murdered by means that have no protection, killed at a distance by a coward who could not even face what he had done. In the swell of our grief, we were too easy to defeat for the Chalionese, and the agony of our loss splintered us again. What glories we could have had – but it all came to nothing.

#

Father fell silent for a minute. Jaessin was wide-eyed, listening to the story with a quiet awe. "Did the gods punish them, Father?" he asked.

"Some say they did," Father answered, his voice quiet. "Some day they paid for their murder of the Golden General. I say there is no price high enough to pay that blood debt. We men of Roknar will never forgive the demon bastard for crushing our dreams and denying us our destiny. We will never bend a knee to him, or to the Chalionese who serve him. Hold true to the old ways, Jaessie. We are men of Roknar."

Jaessin remained quiet for a long time, considering the story and imagining the Golden General, riding on his warhorse off to battle. "Do you think the Father will choose another hero someday?" he asked.

Father smiled, then, and ruffled Jaessin's hair. "Perhaps one day," he said. "Do you think it will be you?"

Jaessin flushed. He had been thinking of that, imagining himself at the head of a column of soldiers. He mustered all the scorn he could. "That's not what I meant!"

Father laughed. "You are my good boy, Jaessie. Run along and play now. There is still sunlight left in the day."

Obediently, Jaessin slid Father's lap and padded out of the room. By the time he reached the door, though, he was galloping, seeing himself on a golden steed, facing the corrupt Chalionese, riding to war.


End file.
